Samuil Marshak. (№ 414381)

Whether the morning dawns on me.
Whether the evening comes - there is no rest for me.
The mortal wound from all I melt,
And the complaints tear my chest apart.
Would the bride be a little more victorious,
I might have liked her.
How greedily I would have waited for the cherished day!
And I have no strength to live without hope.